A Weasley's Pride
by iKingBearII
Summary: Ginny has been working out, but what happened to her clothes? Done for the latest Writing, Fanfic and H/G Discord server challenge.


**This is another fic done for the Writing, Fanfic, and H/G Discord challenges. It was great fun to write and a good step to get back into writing; Massive thanks to everyone who helped, either by pushing me to write or inspiring me. You're all great!**

* * *

Ginny Weasley was many things – a daughter, a wife, a famed Quidditch player; however, right now, she was only one thing: furious. She would be the first to admit that she had, by all definitions, a great life. She had achieved her dream career – she would never forget the private celebration between Harry and her after her first match – and her dream husband, who she had grown to learn was so much more than the Boy-Who-Lived and the Savior of the Wizarding World. Like today, he was a bloody prat.

The Quidditch season had ended a few weeks ago and it had been Ginny's worst seasons yet. Truthfully, she knew it wasn't a terrible thing; she had been an impressively high scorer and her worst season was better than many other Chasers in the League. Her entire family – and Harry too – had repeatedly tried to console her with that fact, but she had to admit that her failures were weighing heavily on her. She was getting older, and it was only natural that her high scoring streak would end eventually. She should be content with everything she had, she knew, but there was always something missing.

Like her clothes. Despite the Quidditch season being over, Ginny had kept herself on a heavy workout schedule; workouts matter, and she was determined to increase her game during the upcoming season. One of her favorite ways of doing this were early morning runs throughout Godric's Hollow, where they had moved when they had gotten married. She had worried about Harry living in the same place where his parents died, but he had seemed to find a peace with it, and she had been happy to see that.

There were two factors that had been forcing her to shorten her runs or not perform them at all: The crazy cat lady who always interrupted her runs to talk about some madman or other poisoning the animals – which was entirely untrue – and, really, just gave off a creepy vibe. Harry had insisted she was similar to Arabella Figg, though perhaps more insane.

The second and entirely more problematic factor was that starting from a week ago, her clothes had started disappearing at inopportune times. Random articles of clothing every time, with a fairly common pattern. She would never forget the time that she had been chatting with her mother and her shirt had simply dematerialized—it had been a very hot day, and she had worn nothing underneath. Transfiguring something into clothes didn't work, and if she put something else on it disappeared entirely. The charm only lasted for half an hour, but that was half an hour too long.

Immediately afterward she had begun an investigation into the culprit(s); firstly, she had noticed that Harry had _definitely _not minded her plight, and in truth, there had been a few moments, such as this morning, that she hadn't minded it entirely either. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the events of that morning.

Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she was supposed to be angry. She wasn't entirely convinced that it was Harry who had performed the charm, and she couldn't really blame him for the side benefits, but he didn't have to be so bloody happy about it.

A week and a half ago, George had come over for a visit, with his son in tow. He had seemed shifty and uncertain and, at the time, Ginny had just attributed it to it being the first time that he had visited their house.

George had been very mercurial after the War. First, he had gone through the obvious and expected depression; afterward, he had become immensely prolific in his jokes and pranks. There had been a whole month, the Weasley Family had dubbed it The Month of George, that George had pranked every member of the family every day for the entire month. None of them had protested too harshly, for it was heartwarming to see him doing _something_.

After a few months, he had calmed down and, much to the shock of everyone who knew him, grew a more serious edge. He was still fun, and cracked jokes often, as well as the occasional prank, but he had actually set his mind to the business and excelled. Ginny had her suspicions that George wanted to uphold the business and impress Fred when they finally met on the next great adventure. Her thoughts had been confirmed when he had named his son Fred; much to her embarrassment, Ginny had cried upon hearing the news. That day, she had vowed to do everything humanly possible to do right by Fred II.

Today, she was considering going against that vow by murdering George. She knew for a fact he was in at work—the shop in Hogsmeade was run by Ron while George ran the original. Finally having a plan of action, Ginny grinned evilly. Harry had no work today and was staying home, as far as she knew, so she decided it would be prudent to inform him of her whereabouts.

She found him in the living room listening to the wireless. "Hey, Harry, I'm going to out for a bit."

He turned to her, his green eyes taking her in intensely, "Are you sure that's safe with your… condition?"

She raised an eyebrow at the cheeky tone in his voice before she realized what he meant. "Oh, it seems to run on a half-hourly basis, off and on. I've got a good twenty-five minutes now, I think that'll be enough."

He winced at her tone but stood nonetheless, striding across the room and pulling her into his arms. He leaned down, his lips inches away from her ear. Despite herself, she felt her heart beat faster and her breath hitch. "Don't hurt him too badly, yeah?"

His teasing tone reminded her of her anger, and she stepped back from his embrace, hands on her hips, "And where do you get off telling me what to do, Potter? I'd be careful if I were you; I've half a mind to deal with you as well."

His grin only widened, "Nah, you love me too much to hurt me, Potter—too bad, that is."

Her eyes narrowed even as she knew he was right; she wouldn't hurt him terribly, she loved him too much. It was then, at that moment, that Ginny Weasley realized something else about her 'condition'. It was a fairly mortifying fact for the independent, fierce woman: the charm wasn't set on a timed scale, it may not ever have been. It was coded, quite clearly, to be performed every time she thought about how much she loved Harry. This time, for whatever reason, _all _of her clothes disappeared.

There was complete silence as their eyes met, and Harry managed to be silent for a valiant three seconds before chuckling. Ginny's fists clenched as she reaffirmed her vow to kill George.

"Ah, so you're really sure of that half-hour, are you?" Harry questioned as his gaze studied her intently, his eyes darkening with lust.

Ginny swallowed, "I had thought—it made sense, that is, that it would be on a timed schedule. Clearly, I was wrong."

Harry stepped closer to her again, his voice making her shiver, "I'm glad you were wrong, love."

She groaned, "Harry, I really have to get going. George isn't going to be—oh, bloody hell, aright, George can wait," she conceded, her hands reaching up to pull him down to her, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Harry had always been a good kisser, leaving her weak in the knees. Already her nipples were hardened, and she could feel a steady pulsing sensation between her legs. Harry pulled back and smiled at her state, though she noticed with pride that he was in a similarly aroused state. Deciding that he was wearing far too many clothes, she started pulling them off.

"Almost makes me wish I had the bloody charm on me, too," he commented as he stepped out of his boxers and kicked them away. Something about the look in his lust-darkened eyes had her ready; even after all these years, it was electric and passionate, and she hoped that would never cease.

Dimly, as they crashed backwards onto the couch, Ginny thought that they should probably retreat to the bedroom, as it would certainly be more comfortable; Harry began to kiss down her body, moving lower and lower, and she lost all rational thought.

* * *

"Oh, my illustrious sister, what are you doing here in my humble workspace?" George asked loftily, stretching his arms out to gesture to the rather grimy back area of the WWW shop. Several different cauldrons were filled with different substances. He stiffened slightly when he saw Ginny's face.

"George, what in the bloody hell did you do to my clothes?" Ginny raged, her wand now drawn.

George, now a remarkable shade of white, looked confused, "What are you talking about, Ginny? I didn't _do _anything to your clothes."

Red sparks shot from Ginny's wand, singing George, and he yelped, stumbling backward, "Damn it, Ginny, I really haven't, honest!"

George, when called out for pranks, usually would bluster a bit before confessing; this blatant refusal was very uncharacteristic. For the first time that morning, Ginny began having doubts about the culprit. "George, you came over with Fred nine days ago, and then suddenly my clothes started disappearing every time I—well, my clothes disappear a lot!"

George's confused expression turned bewildered before a sudden clarity dawned. "Ginny, I have never been to your home. Never. Are you sure someone didn't use a charm? And you say Fred was there? The only people who've been alone with Fred are Angie and … no, that can't be possible."

Ginny had only seen George utterly and completely gobsmacked a few times – living life as a prankster, one was likely used to surprises – and this was one of them. Ginny suddenly felt nervous, "Is everything alright, George?"

George's expression turned slowly but surely, and within a few seconds, a wide grin was on his face. "Turns out, Gin-Gin, he's not a lost cause after all."

* * *

The Ministry of Magic had always been a very annoyingly bureaucratic area. In order to find anything quickly, you had to have a bloody guide or perhaps a flawless memory. Eventually, though, George and Ginny had arrived at the office of the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. Even the names were long and boring. It fit Percy.

Or perhaps not, she decided, as they were immediately granted entrance to find a Percy with a deadpan expression. "Really, Ginevra, it took you an_ entire week_? I'm disappointed."

"It was you?" Ginny asked, aghast. Even as George had explained that Percy had offered to take Fred II for a day, she had scarcely believed it.

"Can you really think of no reason for it to be me?" He asked, his voice still annoying neutral while somehow simultaneously smug.

She wracked her brains desperately and only one very small event came to mind. A long – very long – time ago, Ginny had challenged Percy to a Weasley Pride Pranking Duel, something that Fred had made up on the spot and told Ginny. Her, being a very clever eight-year-old girl, had immediately decided she was more than capable and challenged Percy. After a moment of shock, Percy had laughed at her and then 'accepted her challenge', though her father had overheard and explained that there was no such event.

"Are you telling me—Percy, that was over a decade ago!" she shouted, torn between being angry and impressed.

Percy leaned back in his plush chair and finally dropped his expression, a smile growing on his face, "You should know that the long game is the right game, dear sister. When it's least expected…"

Ginny looked over to George, expecting to see him similarly outraged, but to her surprise, George was shaking in silent laughter. After he controlled himself, he spoke, "Blimey, Perce, I'm impressed."

Ginny scowled at Percy, "Take the bloody charm off before I _murder _you."

Percy faked a wounded look for a few seconds before grinning, "Fine, Ginevra, but I hope this shows you that I am indeed just as capable of a good prank as any of the rest of the clan." With that, he withdrew his wand, removing the rather complex charm work that he had managed.

As soon as the charms were withdrawn, Ginny allowed herself a small smile. She could appreciate a great prank, and this was one of the best, "Well done, Percy, well done."

With the charm lifted, and a newfound respect for Percy, Ginny Weasley departed from the Ministry of Magic, her mind full of interesting possibilities of retaliation; her Weasley Pride was on the line, after all.


End file.
